


Somebody to Love

by koganewest



Series: Post-Season 8 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Sex, Crying, Fix-It, Friends With Benefits, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Smut, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-11-21 17:25:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18145205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koganewest/pseuds/koganewest
Summary: In the months following the war, Keith focuses all his energy into aiding Lance’s recovery — which isn't too good for his own.Truthfully, Keith is just sick of being lonely.





	1. Chapter 1

In the following months after the end of the war, no one knows how to proceed.

Obviously, there is a lot of work to do; rebuilding a universe devastated by years of combat is no easy task. First, they focus on the planets who need help most urgently. Then, they concentrate their efforts on Earth. The work is both exhausting and time consuming, but it serves to keep them busy. It keeps their minds off things. 

It keeps Shiro’s mind off of all they’ve lost. It keeps Hunk’s mind off the people who suffered. It keeps Pidge’s mind off the destroyed worlds. It keeps Lance’s mind off Allura. It keeps Keith’s mind off Lance.

Of course, the distraction doesn’t last. 

Lance falls into a deep depression, which keeps him holed up in his room, curtains drawn, hidden in blankets, and refusing to look in mirrors. Everyone tries their best to help him — each in their own way. Hunk brings him loads of his favorite foods, hoping to see him gain some weight back. Pidge sends him digital greetings and things to cheer him up, hoping to see him engaged in something again. Shiro speaks to him in frequent motivational speeches, hoping to see him overcome this hardship. 

And Keith— well, Keith intends to stay as far away as possible. 

It’s partially selfish; he doesn’t think he can bear to see Lance so upset without feeling guilty or ashamed since he can’t help. But his decision to stay far away from the McClain family home is also logical; he’s never been good at comforting people. He thinks he’d probably say the wrong thing and Lance would end up feeling much worse. 

His plan is foiled about a month into Lance’s melancholy stage — by Hunk, who insists they all see each other for something — a dinner, a movie, a sleepover, _anything_. In the end, they agree on all three. 

It goes about as well as one might expect. After all, they're each recovering from serious trauma in different ways. 

Hunk tries his best to feign normalcy, which only serves to make Lance look more sullen and dismayed. Pidge, on the other hand, is frustrated immensely by Lance’s behavior, while Shiro overcompensates. By the time they’ve finished dinner, no one looks happy, and everyone looks like they’re on the verge of leaving. 

Keith decides to speak up. 

“Guys,” he starts, interrupting the tense silence among them. He tries to think positively — yet carefully so he doesn't set anyone off. Keith tries to imitate Shiro from years ago, when he was dealing with Keith’s skittish and volatile personality. He clears his throat, and everyone looks up at him. “We need to try to understand each other, or we're never going to recover from this.”

“We're trying, but _someone_ isn't being receptive,” Pidge snaps, leveling a glare at Lance, who just stares miserably at his hands in his lap. She pauses briefly as if she's considering something, but still continues with ruthless irritation. “We all miss her, but Allura wouldn't want us moping around over her.”

Everyone stills.

Her name was almost forbidden. They’d all tiptoed around the topic, careful not to misstep, like they were in a minefield. Now, though, it's as if they’ve thrown all caution to the wind and headed forth blindly. 

Lance is the atomic bomb, and Pidge has detonated him. 

He stands so abruptly, so furiously, that he knocks his chair behind him and sends it crashing into a wall. His fists simultaneously slam against the table, and all the plates and silverware jolt with the force of it. Their wine glasses tremble, and so does Lance. His face has reddened to a deep shade of fury, and his brows are knit together to sharpen his gaze. And then— 

He explodes. 

_“How would you know?!”_ He blatantly screams, and his breaking voice echoes throughout the entire house. “None of us would know what she would've wanted! Because we let her fucking _die_ for us!”

Everyone just blankly stares up at him, horrified. 

He storms out. The slam of the door speaks for itself: he does not want to be followed. 

At the table, they just look at each other, unable to speak or act. Keith surveys their expressions carefully, curiously, cautiously. Pidge looks incredibly guilty as she picks at her sleeve. Shiro looks confused, as if he doesn't know where the outburst came from. Hunk has got tears in his eyes that threaten to spill if he were to blink. 

Keith doesn't realize that he’s shaking. 

There’s still silence and even more guilt, but eventually, Shiro clears his throat. “Someone needs to go after him.”

And then, Pidge looks at Keith expectantly. And then, Hunk does the same. And then, Shiro does, too. Keith’s stomach twists uncomfortably, but for some reason, he stands without thinking. 

“Why me?” He asks, though he’s already convinced. Unsurprisingly, none of them have an answer. But maybe they’ve known about the past times Keith has comforted Lance successfully. Maybe they know Keith has experienced life-altering losses that make him more qualified to help Lance. 

Maybe they just don't want to do it themselves. 

Whatever the reason, Keith leaves the table and follows Lance’s path down the hallway. It’s quiet and empty, only lit by a small dome light above him. Keith wouldn't know which room is Lance’s if it weren't the only closed door. 

Now, Keith is hesitant. How should he even go about this? What will he even say? What can he do to help?

He presses his ear to the door and hears nothing.

Slowly and cautiously, he opens it. 

Lance is sat on the edge of an unmade bed, staring at the wall in front of him. He doesn't even flinch at the opening door, but when Keith steps into the room uninvited, Lance stands abruptly, like he's about to kick Keith out. His expression is simultaneously fierce and empty. 

“Keith,” is all he manages before his voice cracks. 

And before Keith can overthink it, he’s stepping forward to collect Lance in his arms, who slumps against him easily, like he'd been on the verge of collapse. 

Lance’s arms secure himself to Keith’s waist and he buries his face in Keith’s neck. They grasp each other desperately, tightly, closely, and Keith does his best to steady his thumping heart. He knows better than to over analyze this moment. Lance is simply in need of comfort; Keith is simply convenient. 

The selfish wish for _more_ makes Keith ashamed of himself, especially because Lance is hurting so badly now. 

Keith rids himself of the thoughts and tugs Lance closer, placing a hand on the back of his head and another on his back. Lance is weak in his grasp, like he's struggling to stand, so Keith holds him even tighter. 

And for a while, they just breathe together. 

The rise and fall of Lance's chest is erratic at first, and he hyperventilates for a long time while Keith rubs his back. Eventually, though, after a very long time, Lance starts to calm down. He moves for the first time, only to adjust his head. Now, he's practically nuzzled into Keith’s neck with his nose pressed to his throat. Lance's hair tickles Keith's jaw. 

“Lance,” he says softly. “I think you should get some rest.” As much as Keith doesn't want to let go, he thinks Lance should be more comfortable and get some good sleep. 

“Mhm,” Lance mumbles in response, but he doesn't move or let go from Keith. 

So Keith reluctantly separates himself from the embrace and guides Lance a few feet forward to his bed. He gracelessly slumps into the mattress, while Keith pulls the blanket over him and up to his chin. 

Lance sighs, stares up at the ceiling, and talks. 

“I can't even cry over her anymore, Keith. I've officially got nothing left in me. This war took all that I had — and more. I feel like a hollow shell of a person, and there just isn't _anything_ that’s going to change that. I’ve lost everything, Keith. Even myself. And I don't know how to fix any of this mess when I can’t even find myself. How do I get out of this, Keith? Is it even worth trying when there's nothing left for me in the world?”

“Nothing left for you?” Keith sputters, unable to believe what he’s hearing. “You're the only reason we got through this. We’d be dead without you, Lance. Imagine how we’d feel if we lost you.”

Lance doesn't answer. He just looks down guiltily at his hands, but at least he seems to believe what Keith’s saying.

“If you can’t find purpose on your own, at least let us help you. It's the least we can do to repay you for saving our lives over and over,” Keith says honestly, looking right into Lance's sad eyes. He hopes his own expression reveals his sincerity and concern. 

And maybe the wobbly smile Lance gives him pales in comparison to what it used to be, but Keith thinks it's a decent start.

* * *

In the following months after that, Keith focuses all his energy into Lance’s wellbeing.

Which, admittedly, isn't good for his own. 

Lance is priority, though. There isn't a day that goes by without Keith checking in on him, whether it be in person or through video chat. Sometimes, Keith stays with Lance for weeks at a time, and they watch movies and cook food and keep busy. 

Keith treasures those days more than he’d ever admit. 

He knows that spending so much time with Lance — especially _living_ with him — isn't helping Keith move past his feelings. In fact, it's just making everything worse. It's like Keith torturing himself with the proximity he has to Lance, with the level of trust they’ve placed in each other, and with the amount of comfort they experience with each other. 

Keith can't imagine giving it up, though. 

When he stays with Lance, their lives are undeniably intertwined. They eat breakfast together, watch shitty TV together, and cook food together. Lance always turns to Keith for comfort. He cries on his shoulder, and sometimes, he falls asleep there. 

But Lance doesn't love him.

Not in the same way, at least. Keith knows Lance loves him — he tells him often enough, to Keith's misfortune, since his heart skips a beat every time — but Lance doesn't love him in the same way. Lance loves him for his dedication, for his company, for his support. Lance loves him for his _friendship_. 

And it’s still important, of course. Keith cherishes the love that Lance can give, but it leaves Keith feeling empty at times. 

It'ss unhealthy, and surprisingly, Hunk is the first to recognize it. 

“Keith, I think you should let me and Pidge take over helping Lance for a while,” Hunk says one day, after pulling Keith aside under the pretense of _discussing some revolutionary piloting technology, Lance, we’ll be back in a second, okay?_

“Why?” Keith asks dumbfoundedly, in attempt to pretend he isn't absolutely hopeless. 

“You know why,” Hunk sighs, grabbing Keith's shoulders with two hands and guiding him to look up from his feet. “I want the best for Lance, and I know you're really helping him. But Keith, I also want the best for you, too. I don't think staying around so close to him is good for you. Pidge and I—”

Somewhere in the distance, a dog is barking. But neither of them hear Lance's footsteps behind them. 

“—can take care of him, Keith, you don't need to stay here anymore.”

_”Excuse me?”_

Both Hunk and Keith whirl around to face Lance, who stands at the doorway, hands on his hips, reddened in the face, fuming. Keith's stomach drops to the floor. What if Lance heard? What if Lance knows now? What if—?

“Is that why you're here, Keith? Really? Because I _thought_ you were just lonely! I thought you needed someone to talk to because you were recovering! This whole time, I thought I was doing _you_ a favor by letting you crash here all the time! Little did I know that you were just on babysitting duty!”

“Lance, we didn't mean—” 

“No!” Lance interrupts, snarling viciously. “You're free of your burden, now, I promise.” 

“Please, Lance,” Hunk tries sadly, but Lance just yanks open the door and points toward it. 

“Get the fuck away from me,” he growls, low and steady and frighteningly even. For a moment, they each just stare at each other. But eventually, Hunk lets his shoulders slump, he sighs, and heads toward the door. He signals for Keith to follow, but he doesn't move. He stands rooted in the spot, holding eye contact with Lance. 

Keith can't leave like this. He opens his mouth to apologize, but Lance's expression stops him. 

He’s heartbroken. 

And then, Lance appears to muster all the venom within himself, and he whispers, “I _hate_ you.”

And then, Keith flees.

* * *

He and Lance don’t speak for an entire year. 

In that time, Keith leaves for space and begins some humanitarian work with the Blade in order to rehabilitate some of the destroyed planets. He pours all of his efforts into helping other people, but it feels fake, since he clearly couldn’t help the person he loved most. 

Keith thinks about him every day that goes by, but he doesn’t reach out to Lance in fear of getting pushed away again. 

In all honesty, Keith doesn’t think his heart could handle any more hatred from Lance. Hearing him say those awful words had irreparably damaged Keith; he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the tone of his voice that day. It replays in his head sometimes and even in his dreams — or nightmares, he should say. Those nights, he wakes up with a rapidly pounding heart and shaking hands. 

Keith avoids Earth at all costs. And Lance doesn’t ask him to come back. 

Until, one day, he does. 

He leaves a video message when Keith doesn’t pick up and asks him to come back and help on the farm for a little while. He doesn’t specify how long, nor does he address the falling out they had. Maybe it’s better they don’t talk about it. 

Seeing his face makes Keith’s chest hurt. 

He’d spent so long avoiding the obvious hole Lance’s absence had left within him that it’s jarring to even think about Lance. Seeing his face — how he’s changed in the time they haven’t talked — is even more painful that Keith could’ve imagined. In fact, Keith’s emotional response to the video should be enough to convince him not to go back. 

So Keith politely declines. Over text, of course, because he could never say no to Lance’s face.

* * *

He and Acxa land on what _looks_ like a deserted planet when they’re suddenly shot at from within the rubble. 

They both duck simultaneously, but Keith’s shoulder is grazed by a searing hot laser. He yelps, thrown off balance, and lands next to Acxa’s feet and when she notices, she yells his name and tries to pull him up with her so they can run. 

She sprints toward a collapsed building for cover, sporadically looking behind her to make sure Keith is following. He keeps up well enough, though he’s focused mostly on squeezing near the wound in his shoulder so he doesn’t lose more blood. His other hand clutches his knife, though it’s useless now; their assailants are shooting at them long-range. He’d be long dead before he even got close enough to use it. 

Then, he gets shot in the leg. 

He screams an expletive in agony and falls forward flat, but the sound of firing drowns him out. Acxa doesn’t hear. She just keeps running further away from him, as he lies on the rocky ground and _screams_. 

The burn of a laser, Keith realizes, is much different than the sting of a bullet. This injury seems to envelop the entire expanse of his leg with fiery pain and renders him immobile, face pressed to the ground, motionless. He doesn’t think he could put any weight on his leg if he tried. 

Now, Acxa is no longer in sight. It’s only a matter of time before the aliens notice where he is and focus their fire on him. 

And soon enough, they do. 

The first few scattered shots hit boulders around Keith and break them into pebbles, which hit him from all angles. And then, he gets hit in the foot. And then, a beam burns his hair. And then, one grazes his cheek. And then, he’s hit in the abdomen. 

He’s certain he won’t live through this. 

Time passes. Or maybe, it doesn’t. Keith’s eyes close involuntarily, and he keeps getting hit by burning shots; he doesn’t fight the allure of death now. He’s slipping further away from the battle scene, toward an indecipherable vision in the distance. It’s only a matter of time before he falls away for good. 

He hears Lance’s voice: _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I ha—_

Keith pushes, pushes, pushes. He thinks he might be able to refuse death. He has to be able to; he can’t let that be his last memory of Lance. 

_I hate you, Keith._

* * *

He wakes up probably hours later, freezing cold and stumbling out of a healing pod. Luckily, Krolia is there to catch and steady him; he would’ve face-planted if he’d been on his own. She ruffles his hair affectionately and smiles down at him, like she’s thankful he’s okay.

The fogginess in Keith’s head clears as he remembers what’d happened.

“I want to go back to Earth,” he blurts suddenly, gazing up at his mother with a guarded expression. The curious look on her face initially disappears as she remembers what had happened after the last time her son was on Earth: how Keith had locked himself in a room, refused to eat, plagued by frequent nightmares. 

She looks like she’s about to tell him he’s forbidden from even entering the solar system, so Keith sets his jaw definitively, like he’s not going to back down.

She’s regarding him analytically, now. Which means she’s either preparing to be even more stubborn than he is, or she’s going to let him make his own choice. She could probably try to talk him out of it under the false pretense that she needs his help in space — but Keith knows better. His skillset isn’t exactly vital for delivering supplies and creating alliances. 

But then, she just nods and leaves the room. Relieved, Keith types out an acceptance of Lance’s offer and sends it off after little deliberation. 

He’s back on Earth within a day. 

Instead of docking at the Garrison, Keith just lands his ship on the outskirts of Lance’s farm and decides to walk all the way toward his house. It’s hot on Earth now, and Keith is already sweating in his jacket when he steps off his ship. 

But he begins to hear an engine’s rumble, and soon enough, there’s a Jeep heading toward him. 

Keith raises a hand hesitantly to wave as the vehicle approaches; he sees an excited wave from the other side of the windshield, though he can’t make out Lance’s face. Within seconds of cutting the engine, the driver seat door opens and Lance is out of the car, running, running, running. 

He practically throws himself onto Keith. 

Keith stumbles backward briefly but allows Lance to latch onto him. He carefully moves his arms from his sides to hold him there and sheepishly presses his face into Lance’s neck. One of Lance’s hands secures around Keith’s shoulder and the other cradles the back of his head gently.

Dry wind whips fiercely around them, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of Keith’s pounding heart. He wonders if Lance can feel it — if he understands what Keith is feeling. 

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispers softly, tickling Keith’s ear, “I don’t hate you.” 

And they’re okay.

* * *

Time passes quickly now for Keith. He’s extremely busy with the Blade’s humanitarian efforts, but he still takes time to visit Earth. 

They’re each doing well. Pidge is making big progress on an AI robot with Matt, combining both Earth’s technology with Altea’s. Meanwhile, Hunk is cooking, of course, but for diplomatic meetings. Keith hasn't heard much from Shiro, but he has apparently settled down with a man from his Atlas crew. Lance is raising beautiful Altean flowers in Allura’s memory. 

And Keith is doing well. There's nothing going wrong in his life. There are no problems he has to attend to, no disagreements he’s caught in, and no issues that affect him. He can't complain about anything going badly. 

But nothing is going particularly well either. 

Truthfully, he’s lonely. 

Sure, he has his friends and he has his mother, but he can't help but desire something _more_. He wants a companion, someone to share life with. He wants someone by his side through everything, someone he can grow old and gray with. Keith just wants to fall in love, and he wants to be loved in return. 

It’s clear that Lance will never reciprocate his affections. Keith tells himself that he’s okay with that, as long as he can meet someone new and fall in love. 

Then, an opportunity presents itself: Shiro is getting married. 

Now, Keith can find someone at the wedding. Maybe he'll share a dance with a stranger, maybe they'll fall in bed together, and maybe in the morning, they’ll stay in each other's arms. Maybe they’ll build a relationship. And then, Keith won't be alone.

* * *

As the wedding day approaches, Keith begins to count the days. And soon enough, he's headed back to Earth, dressed in the suit Hunk had sent him weeks prior. 

He barely even breathes as he docks his ship at the Garrison and hops on a shuttle toward where the reception is being held. As he gazes around him, it finally hits him how much Earth has really changed since he left. There are so many new buildings that replace the old, so many structures he doesn't recognize. 

The people, too, are different. Keith used to know everyone around him when he was on Garrison property. Now, he can't place anyone. And no one knows who he is, either. The anonymity is strange. 

Luckily, the technology has evolved enough that Keith reaches his destination quickly, disembarking from the shuttle and walking a mile toward the large hall. 

Romelle finds him as soon as he enters, and she excitedly pulls him toward the back, where he knows Shiro and the others will be. She talks animatedly about the upcoming ceremony and straightens Keith's suit a million times. When they get to the dressing room, Romelle pats his back, opens the door, and nudges him inside. 

Lance and Hunk have their back to the door, and Shiro is facing him, grinning widely. They each look absolutely breathtaking. 

“Keith! Hey!” Shiro exclaims enthusiastically, pulling him into a big hug and holding him there, like nothing has changed between them. For that, Keith is grateful. Shiro seems to share in that sentiment. “It's so good to have you here today. It's been a while, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith nods, because it really has been a long time since he's seen Shiro. They easily make conversation though, along with Hunk and Lance as they get Shiro ready. 

Before they know it, they can hear the crowd filtering in, waiting for the start of the wedding. 

They leave Shiro alone in the room with wishes of good luck. Keith, Hunk, and Lance make their way to the front, where Matt is stood as best man. Music begins to play as they turn to face the crowd, and then Shiro walks down the aisle. 

And if Keith sheds a tear or two for Shiro's love story and his own lack thereof, well, no one has to know.

* * *

He’s drunk. 

God, he’s so drunk, but luckily, so are the other three former paladins. They’ve each made fools of themselves on the dance floor — even _Pidge_ — and now they’ve moved to a secluded corner of the reception hall, watching everyone around them. 

Hunk is the first to call it a night. 

“I desperately need some sleep,” he explains, yawning clumsily. Everyone hugs him goodbye and waves him off, and he makes his way toward Shiro and his new husband to thank them for the good time. 

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning,” Pidge declares miserably after another round of shots. “I'm going to head out before I make any more questionable decisions.”

And then, it's just Keith and Lance. 

“Let's take a walk outside,” Keith says before he can even think about it. Lance looks up at him with those sparkling blue eyes and an intoxicated flush on his cheeks, then nods. Keith leads the way through the door and out to a garden area, where he sits on the edge of the fountain. Lance does the same. 

“I'm worried about you, you know?” Lance asks, sighing tiredly. He stares ahead in a refusal to meet Keith's own questioning stare. A moment of silence passes between them, but just as Keith's about to ask why, Lance answers. “You just seem sad. Like you're not outwardly sad, but I feel like you're hiding, like, a deep sadness. And I don't wanna pry if you don't want to talk, but I think you really should at least talk a little to someone—”

Keith kisses the words right off his lips. 

At first, Lance kisses back emphatically, like he’s waited as long as Keith has for this. He lifts his hand to cup Keith’s cheek gently and moves their lips together in sync, desperately and fiercely. 

Until suddenly, Lance pushes Keith off. 

The movement jolts Keith backwards, and his eyes open wide in shock. He's startled, shocked, but mostly just plain _horrified_. Horrified that Lance pushed him away, but mostly horrified that he even kissed Lance in the first place. What had gotten into him? Why would he do such a thing when he knew Lance would just push him away?

“What was— what are you doing?” Lance asks, looking more surprised than disgusted, which Keith is grateful for. 

Keith just blinks at him drunkenly, stupidly, until he decides he’s just sick and tired of being alone. He needs someone to care about him, even if it’s only for a night. Maybe Lance had initially kissed back because he was physically attracted to Keith — after all, Keith knows he’s at least _somewhat_ attractive. And maybe Lance is frustrated and needs something, too. 

“Please,” Keith begs softly, “I need this.”

Lance looks like he's about to reject him, but the persistent loneliness in Keith’s heart puts tears in his eyes.

And then, Lance leans forward and kisses him deeply. 

Just as they had mere seconds earlier, they move in sync, in tandem, connected. Keith lets himself run one hand through Lance’s soft hair and clutch his collar with the other. He pulls him closer and closer until they’re completely pressed together, like they’re together and whole. 

They stay like that for a while, innocently kissing through the intensity of the moment, until Lance picks up the pace and moves his hands from Keith’s face to his hips, then lower. He pulls away teasingly slow, whispering in Keith’s ear confidently, unlike how he’d acted merely minutes prior, “I think we should get out of here, yeah?”

They leave the garden and call a cab to Lance’s place, and on the entire ride there, they’re all over each other. 

Their movements are counterbalanced – Keith is admittedly more desperate and frantic, but he’s calmed by Lance’s gentle and languid movements. Keith finds it odd that Lance is completely unfazed by all of this, but maybe his suspicion was correct: Lance was sick of being alone, too. Maybe some casual sex was exactly what they both needed to move on with their lives. 

“You’re cool with this?” Keith asks hesitantly — terrified of rejection — when they part long enough for Lance to unlock his front door.

“Yeah, are you?” Lance responds, pausing in the doorway to regard Keith with an analytical stare, like he _knows_ of Keith’s best kept secret and hidden affections. 

“Yeah, of course I am,” he huffs, slightly annoyed as he yanks at Lance’s fitted suit jacket. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks with an involuntarily tense tone. Lance is quiet for a little while, save for breathy moans when Keith sucks on his neck just right, then just ignores the question and begins removing Keith’s own jacket right there in the doorway. 

And within minutes, Keith is pressed against the kitchen countertop, Lance draped over him from behind. The surface is cool on his stomach, in contrast to his burning skin, and everything feels like he’s on fire. He can only imagine how red his face is, so he’s almost glad Lance can’t see him.

“C’mon, Lance, hurry up,” Keith instructs heatedly, before moaning into his arm when Lance grips his ass.

“Good to know you’re still as impatient as ever,” Lance retorts, pulling at Keith’s longer hair a little forcefully from behind. He carefully tugs Keith’s pants down, lets them drop to his ankles, and puts a hand into Keith’s boxers with roaming fingers. 

He doesn’t think he’s going to last like this, with Lance just about everywhere. God, he’s wanted this — wanted _Lance_ — for so long. 

Keith both feels and hears Lance breathing down his neck, repeating praises that make Keith flush even more. One hand settles at his ass, while the other wraps loosely around Keith’s cock, lazily tugging. Although Keith is disappointed that he can’t see his face, maybe it’s better. Keith’s own expression might give away too much emotion. He might show that this is way more than a one-night stand to him.

Every thought disappears from Keith’s mind as two fingers enter him, bent and painfully wonderful against his prostate. It's a bit over stimulating, especially as Lance pauses there for a bit. The sensation removes any inhibition Keith had; he doesn’t even bother to stop the obscene noises from escaping his lips. And then Lance moves again, pulls out the fingers, and flips Keith to face him. For a second, he looks at him thoughtfully.

“This is casual, right? We’re still gonna be friends after this?”

“Shut up, Lance,” he manages through heaving breaths, while Lance now leads him toward the bedroom. 

“Keith.” His tone is a warning. It’s kind of hot, Keith thinks.

“Of course, yes. It is. Just — oh, god — please,” Keith begs, leaving unsaid that he wants Lance to just drop it. His voice cracks pathetically as he pleads, eyes wide and fearful of denial. Desperate hands clutch tightly, and his knuckles whiten around Lance’s blouse in his hands. “I need this, Lance.”

Lance practically shoves him onto the bed, now. For a fleeting moment, he reaches down toward where Keith is laid on the bed to cup his face — with so much gentle sincerity that Keith has to look away to keep from blushing. But it’s gone almost immediately, replaced by accommodating lips. Keith keens into it, situating Lance between his legs and responding with a desperate mouth.

Keith can almost pretend they’re lovers.

Lance spends a torturous amount of time creating obscene marks on Keith’s neck, before he moves his hand between Keith’s thighs once again. From then, clothes are shed quickly until bare chests are pressed together. Once Lance is three fingers deep in him, Keith is moaning unabashedly through labored breaths. 

“Come on already, Lance,” he begs, widening his legs around Lance’s waist and digging his heels into Lance’s lower back, hoping to spur on some movement. Lance eyes him warily, but Keith is quick to dismiss his worries. “I’m ready, I promise.”

So Lance retrieves a condom from his blazer pocker — Keith wonders if he’d been expecting this to happen — and rolls it on, now almost as impatient as Keith had been earlier. 

“Goddamn, Keith,” he sighs as he pushes in. “You’re so hot like this.” Thankfully, Keith knows his face is already red with arousal, so Lance probably doesn’t notice the way he blushes at the compliment. He doesn’t exactly have time to dwell on it though, because Lance moves, pulling out and slamming back in abruptly; Keith lets out a strangled moan in time with the thrust, squeezing his eyes shut as his toes curl.

With Lance _this close_ and sharing in something so intimate, Keith is finally beginning to feel whole again. 

A steady rhythm builds between them, a constant back and forth movement, with Lance just barely brushing his prostate each time. The frustrated glares he sends in Lance’s direction doesn’t seem to clue him in, either. But right when Keith is about to beg him to stop messing around, Lance grabs his hips forcefully to press him further into the mattress, angles his own hips upward, and picks up his pace, moaning needily throughout it all. 

Keith literally loses the ability to speak as Lance pounds into him, just right. The noise in the room is reduced to the bed creaking with their movements, skin on skin, and labored breathing. It’s exactly what Keith needed: mindless sex. 

Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. 

Lance breaks their reverent silence with a whisper of his name, then a command: “Keith, come with me.”

So Keith does. But it doesn’t mean anything, really. It’s just sex. Just something for the two of them to do because they’re bored and alone. Keith does his best to convince himself that he doesn’t care that Lance used him to get off, and for a minute or two, it works. 

Until, that is, Keith attempts to fall asleep on Lance’s bed, and Lance absolutely loses it. 

“Oh, _fuck_ , what did we do?!” He shrieks, pulling out of Keith and frantically searching the room for clothing — as if he’s suddenly concerned by his nakedness, as if he didn’t just fuck Keith. He pulls at his hair once he’s tugged a pair of pants on, repeating anxiously, “Keith, what the fuck did we do?”

And for a moment, Keith can only stare. Then, the horrible realization sinks in: Lance regrets sleeping with him. 

He doesn’t reply, only stares blankly as Lance continues to fret, pacing around the room, gathering Keith’s clothes, and tossing them to him carelessly. Keith can't even look at his face, in fear of seeing horror or disgust. 

“Keith, this was a big mistake.”

“Oh,” is all Keith can manage without revealing the hurt in his voice. Lance is staring at him now, bug-eyed and messy-haired. And god, Keith loves him. And god, this hurts. 

“I fucked up, Keith, I really fucked up! I betrayed Allura so goddamn badly! God, I’m so fucking dumb. Why would I do this?! Why did I get so drunk in the first place! I should’ve known better, Keith! I should’ve known that if I got drunk, something awful like this would happen!”

Again, Keith just stares. 

“Please, Keith, you gotta just forget this ever happened. We’ll never talk about it again, I swear.”

Lance doesn’t know what he’s saying. He doesn’t know how much his words are affecting Keith. He doesn’t know about the years Keith spent chasing after him. He doesn’t know about Keith’s lonely nights or his too-big bed or his cold sheets. He doesn’t know about Keith’s unconditional love for him. He doesn’t know better. But his naivety doesn’t soften the blow of his words or minimize the catastrophic heartbreak Keith endures.

“Sure,” Keith replies, as if he hasn’t just been shattered into a million pieces. “If that’s what you want.”

“Definitely,” Lance laughs nervously, turning to face the door. His bare back muscles are tensed as he pulls a shirt over his head, but Keith barely notices anything except for the heartbreaking carelessness with which Lance tosses around his words. “I just want to forget this _awful mistake.”_

And that is exactly when Keith breaks down. 

His first sob is choked and almost hidden, but when Lance hears it, he spins around quickly and stares at Keith helplessly, cluelessly, uselessly. Keith covers his face with his hand for the next one, then hides his face in his arm as he curls up in the bed, crying ceaselessly.

“I th-thought,” he sobs, stumbling on his words gracelessly, “I thought the world had dealt me enough heartbreak already.”

Slowly, Lance approaches the bed he left Keith on seconds ago, lowering himself to sit on the edge, next to Keith’s shaking form. Keith barely sees any of this since his eyes are so blurry with tears. The sudden outpouring of emotion makes it hard for him to focus on anything besides the burning agony in his chest. 

“I thought I’d b-been fucked over enough that the univer-verse would let me be happy for the rest of m-my life,” Keith admits, hiccuping through the sobbed words. He feels Lance’s hand settle on his back, between his shoulder blades; he doesn’t flinch away from the touch but he doesn’t welcome it, either. Lance doesn’t seem to know what to do. He just stares at Keith, who remains curled in a shaky ball, his back to Lance.

“Keith,” he tries softly, “what are you talking about?”

“I’m fucking in love with you!”

The sentence almost echoes in the still room, but it’s drowned out easily by Keith’s continued sobs. He knows he sounds miserable, but he just can’t help it. Everything has gone to shit. His guarded secret is now out in the open, creating tension in the air between them. 

“I— I didn’t know,” Lance starts, but Keith cuts him off before he can say anything else. 

“Of course you didn’t! I didn’t want you to know. Because if you knew, you’d probably just call our friendship an _awful mistake_.”

“Keith, I didn’t mean that,” he amends, reaching out to pull Keith close to him, at least to get him to make eye-contact, but Keith jolts away from it. It’s the only thing Keith can control. In every other way possible, he’s both defenseless and powerless. There’s officially no worse feeling in Keith’s eyes.

“Just leave,” Keith cries. “I’ll be out of your way in the morning.”

And then—

Then, Lance obeys.

Keith is true to his word, too. He’s halfway out of the solar system before Lance even wakes up, vowing to never return for as long as he lives.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Keith docks his ship at the central Blade headquarters, he has 17 missed messages. 

Foolishly, his heart pounds as he opens his communicator, but the messages are just from his mother — demanding to know why his ship has been spotted leaving Earth at dangerous speeds, why he doesn’t have cloaking on, why he seems to be following a risky flight pattern through dangerous areas. 

He doesn’t know how to explain to her that he’s ignoring all instincts of self-preservation and has no desire to survive another day. 

Instead of answering her digitally or in person, Keith takes the route he believes to be least traveled and avoids her. He locks himself up in the small room he’d been given and hopes that she won’t bother him for — well, forever. He never wants to discuss what happened on Earth, and especially not to her. He has a feeling she might overreact and personally attack Lance. 

But then, Keith wonders if she would really be _overreacting_. What Lance had done was cold, inexcusable, and just plain cruel. Maybe Lance hadn’t known about Keith’s secret feelings, but he certainly hadn’t handled it well when he found out. 

Maybe Keith should sic Krolia on Lance, just to get revenge. 

Deep down, though, Keith knows the truth: no amount of physical harm on Lance would equal the heartbreak he inflicted upon Keith. 

The image of Lance’s face when he realized what they’d done — the pure _regret_ in his expression — will be replayed in Keith’s nightmares for years to come. The tone of distress in his voice will echo throughout Keith’s head, too. He’ll be forever haunted by the “awful mistake”. The irony mocks him. 

Unfortunately, Keith wouldn’t only be tortured by the worst memories of that night; he’d also remember everything that had been perfect. 

He can still _feel_ Lance’s soft lips on his own, still _feel_ Lance’s warm touch on his skin, still _feel_ Lance’s gentle hands on his body. He can still remember how it felt when Lance had held him close and kissed him hard, and consequently, Keith’s dreams will be plagued by the wonderful noises Lance had made into his mouth. Little things like that — the look on his face as he came or the soft moans of Keith’s name — will be the basis of Keith’s most traitorous dreams.

Keith fully expects to live in misery for the rest of his sad, pathetic life. 

And when there’s a familiar knock at his door, Keith’s prediction is only confirmed. 

“Keith,” his mother calls through the door, gently, like she already knows that something went terribly wrong while he was on earth. “Can I come in?”

“Fine,” he groans reluctantly. He’s tempted to say no, but he decides it’s better if he got this conversation done sooner rather than later. He’d rather not put off telling his mother that he got fucked over — literally and metaphorically. Just as he’s about to get up from his blanket-cocoon, the door opens. Of course, she’d known his code. 

“Keith—”

He tries not to look too pathetic when she walks in, looking simultaneously powerful and gentle in her Blade gear. Her expression softens when she sees him, wrapped in blankets, messy-haired, and exhausted. She looks like she wants to say a million things, but all she manages is his name. 

“Mom,” he answers, biting the bullet and launching into an explanation. “I know you didn’t expect me back for at least another movement, but I had to come back.”

“Why?” She approaches his bed and settles at the end of it, facing him fully. Keith shrinks under her steady gaze, hesitant to tell her but knowing he can’t avoid it. Though they hadn’t had a relationship throughout the majority of Keith’s life, he tries his best to trust her fully. She deserves to know why her son is hurting, right? She’ll find out eventually, right?

“Lance and I— we, uh, we had sex,” he blurts, staring down at his hands. He can’t meet her eyes. As strange as it might be for him to share something so intimate with his mother, he’s got to tell _someone_. He needs to talk about it. 

“That upsets you? Why? He didn’t take advantage of you, right? If he did, I’ll—”

“No, he didn’t, mom. We both wanted to — at least, I thought we did,” Keith admits shakily, playing with a blanket seam. All the annoyance he’d harbored earlier has melted away, and now he just wants comfort. His mom can help; he just needs to fill her in first. “I thought he’d let me stay the night with him, but he regretted it immediately after.”

“Did he inform you why?” She asks sympathetically.

“Yeah,” Keith mumbles, trying to keep his voice from cracking. God, he thought he was numb to the disappointment by now. He didn’t think he had any energy left to be upset, let alone _cry_ again. The tears are hard to withhold. “He still loves Allura, mom, he— he doesn’t—”

“Keith,” she soothes, reaching out an arm to pull him in. He nearly falls into the embrace, resting his head on her chest. Her arms surround him with warmth, with comfort. Somehow, it just makes him even more emotional. 

He cries again for the second time that week, falling apart in his mother’s arms. 

“He doesn’t love _me_.”

* * *

Within two days, Keith is eager to get back to work in order to distract himself, and Krolia practically bans him from Earth. Of course, she never explicitly tells Keith this, but he notices that all of his new missions and assignments are far from Earth’s solar system. 

It’s unnecessary, since Keith wouldn’t voluntarily go anywhere near Lance in a million years. 

He is, however, desperate for a distraction. Every night he lies in bed awake, he thinks about the intimacy he shared with Lance. The memories burn in his brain and plague his dreams, and Keith wants nothing more than to replace them. Keith wants a one-night stand, but for that, he would need the right kind of atmosphere to initiate one. 

He talks to the younger Blade members that he’s recently met, and they promise to send him coordinates of some place that will help Keith meet someone.

* * *

Bars, it turns out, are not specific to Earth; in fact, they’re pretty universal. 

The bar Keith ends up in, however, is home to many different species and strange beverages — which he stays away from, probably for his own good. Instead, he stays at a countertop and waits to see if anyone approaches him first. 

And soon enough, someone does. 

The alien is completely human-like in physique, though his skin is slightly more orange. He almost appears to have a bad spray tan, but Keith knows if the lights are dim enough, he won’t notice. The only real difference between this alien and Keith himself is size — the stranger is about Kolivan’s height and build — which is truly a plus, if you ask Keith. 

“You seem lonely,” the man drawls in his ear, taking a seat next to Keith and leaning up into his space. He stares up at Keith through his sandy brown hair and levels a steady gaze at him. His eyes are gray and piercing. 

Keith just grins at him wickedly. 

They don’t really talk for long after that. Keith flirts slyly to make his intentions clear, and the man picks up on it greedily. Keith is thankful for the lack of pleasantries; within minutes, the man is suggesting that he “has a place close by” if Keith is “looking for a good time”. 

Keith considers any time he isn’t thinking about Lance to be a good time.

* * *

By the time Keith is being pressed up to the apartment door, he learns a few things about his suitor: his name is Jared, he’s very impatient, and he’s not very gentle. Keith is turned off by all three facts. 

Unfortunately, he’s stuck comparing the large hands grasping his body to the softer ones that had caressed his skin not long ago. It’s twisted, Keith knows, but he just can’t help it. Forgetting Lance’s touch was damn near impossible, even when he had another man on top of him, making nearly all the same moves. 

Keith finds himself pressed face-first against a wall before he can even comprehend anything else. Neither of the two have said anything in a while, which Keith wouldn’t complain about if he knew what was going on or had some sort of control over the rapidly escalating situation. 

But his pants are being yanked down mid-thigh and there’s something pressed to his entrance and, _oh, god_ is he not even going to prep him? 

“Wait!” Keith yelps before any more pressure is applied, and he moves himself away from the stranger draped over his back in order to hastily shove two fingers into himself along with some spit, making quick work of the situation. Though he didn’t mind things rough or with a little pain, he certainly didn’t want to bleed from excessive force or lack of proper preparation. 

“Come on,” Jared complains in his ear, moving his mouth to suck on his neck, right where there used to be a faint mark from Lance, which Keith is desperate to forget about. 

The mark alone is enough to make Keith eager to get Jared — god, it’s still a terrible name — inside him. 

He quits fingering himself and reaches blindly for Jared’s hips, tugging forward enough that Jared’s cock pokes Keith’s ass. It’s enough encouragement for Jared, apparently, because he lines himself up with Keith’s hole, pauses for a brief second, then hastily pushes in. 

For a moment, they’re both paused like that. Jared waits for Keith to become accommodated to the feeling; Keith tries to tell himself _this_ is what he needed — something quick and thoughtless. 

And then, Jared begins to thrust in and out of Keith, hard and relentless, while Keith just takes the pounding. The force of their movements sends him colliding with the wall briefly, but Keith can’t find it in himself to care, especially as Jared starts to hit his prostate. He moans uncontrollably now and tries to meet Jared’s thrusts eagerly. 

Keith wonders what Lance would think of this. 

It’s a toxic thought, but it’s an irrepressible one as well. If Lance knew Keith was getting dicked down hard against a wall, would Lance congratulate him? Would Lance tell him off for trying to solve his problems with an orgasm? Would Lance chastise him for this unhealthy coping mechanism?

Would Lance be jealous? 

Keith shakes his head of the horrible thought and tries to lose himself in the building pleasure. 

And when it’s all over — when Keith comes across the wall in front of him and when Jared pulls out and comes all over his backside — Jared ushers him out of the house with an empty promise to keep in touch. It’s about as careless as the words thrown at him during his last post-coital reverie, but it stings in his gut far less — if at all, actually. He’s sort of numb now. 

Initially, Keith had thought the experience might help him feel whole again after what Lance had ripped out of him. 

But Keith just feels even more empty.

* * *

His mother finds out what he did — which wouldn't be as big of a problem as it is, if the man Keith slept with wasn't one of Krolia’s close colleagues. 

She practically goes feral, vowing to rip out Jared’s throat with her teeth for “taking advantage of her boy”. However, Keith is quick to assure her that nothing of the sort happened, that Keith fully consented to everything that happened, which only confuses her even more. She interrogates him, demanding to know why he would do such a thing.

“I was just trying to forget, mom. Don't you get it?!” He yells finally with pent up agitation. He feels bad for taking it out on his mother, but he's sick and tired of dealing with this entire situation. “I don't want to talk about this anymore. I don't want to even _think about it_ , okay?”

Krolia is quiet for a while. She adopts her expression of motherly worry, letting her posture slump a little. She looks defeated. 

“I don't know how to help you,” his mother whispers and reaches out for him, pulling him into another embrace. He feels smaller than usual, kind of like she's trying to protect him with the hug, to shield him from what's hurting him. 

“I'll be okay, I promise,” he answers softly, but his voice is almost drowned out by the heavy silence blanketing them. Krolia runs a hand through his hair while the others rubs his back soothingly. Keith's repeats, “I’ll be okay.”

Keith doesn't think either of them believe that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more to come! enjoy ;)  
> -lily


	3. Chapter 3

Truthfully, Keith doesn't realize that he wasn't expecting to hear from Lance when he gets a digital letter delivered via communicator; of course, it's from Earth, and it’s from Lance. 

He doesn't open it when he gets the notification. 

In fact, he doesn't open it after that, either. He leaves it in his inbox to sit. And sit. And sit. Meanwhile, Keith does his best to rid his mind of the message altogether. 

Except, Keith finds it impossible not to think about.

He fears what it might contain. He fears what Lance might've said to him. Keith thinks childishly that it could just be a formal declaration of the end of their friendship. Though improbable, Keith can't help but think bitterly that Lance is just going to tell Keith to stay in space, far away from him. Of course, Lance wouldn't be that rude, but the general meaning would be the same. 

It scares Keith. Because as much as he doesn't want to see Lance anytime soon, he can't imagine never seeing him again — especially per Lance's request. 

Keith realizes eventually that he fears the letter for a whole different reason entirely: a small, foolishly desperate part of him thinks that _maybe_ Lance might actually want to talk to Keith again, that _maybe_ Lance regrets what happened, that _maybe_ Lance wants to fix things so they can be close again. 

Because above all else, Keith just misses Lance. 

He misses his company, misses his lighthearted humor, misses his gentle reassurance, misses his laugh and his eyes and his _smile_ and— 

Keith snatches his communicator from where it'd been hidden under his mattress and opens it, stares blankly and the little number one that decorates his messaging application, almost taunting him with the threat of uncertainty and rejection. Spurred by impulsivity, Keith taps it. 

And then, he reads.

* * *

__

_Dear Keith,_

_I don't deserve to try to talk to you again; you have every right to just ignore this. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you did, but I guess if you're this far, you've chosen to give me a chance. Which, I repeat, I definitely don't deserve._

_I'm so sorry for what happened, Keith._

_If you choose to read no further, I want you to know that I am truly sorry. I just need you to understand how guilty I feel about all I said and did, and how I hurt you. I never meant to. I swear, I never meant to._

_Initially, I’d wanted to blame my actions on my intoxication, but in reality, it had nothing to do with that. I would’ve made the same choice if I was sober. I still would’ve slept with you. And I’m sure you’re wondering why I would do such a thing, but the truth is that I don’t know. I can’t explain to you why I felt what I did that night, but I can guess. Because you deserve an explanation._

_I guess I’m just still heartbroken over Allura. And I know it’s been nearly three years since we lost her, but I can’t help myself. She was my first love._

_On the night of Shiro’s wedding, I was hurting. I kept thinking that me and Allura should’ve been able to get married and live our version of “happily ever after.” So I guess when I didn’t stop things because I wanted to feel something again. I wanted to live again._

_I know that makes me sound bad. It sounds like I used you because you were ready and willing and, well, convenient._

_But, Keith, that couldn’t have been further from the truth._

_I wouldn’t have done that with just anyone. I wanted_ you _and you alone. Because no one else could make me feel something again. No one else could help me live again._

_So maybe I haven’t quite come to terms with Allura’s death, but I have definitely learned since then: she isn’t the only one I can love._

__

_My reaction to what happened between us was childish and thoughtless and cruel. I am so sorry. I guess I reacted harshly because I was upset, heartbroken, and, above all else, confused. I had thought I’d be tied to Allura for the rest of my life. Actually, in a way, I am. But that shouldn’t stop me from being happy. I can have more than one red string of fate, right?_

__

_Allura died so others could live. She died so I could live._

__

_It’s about time I start doing that._

__

__

_So here goes nothing: I want to see you again, Keith. I didn’t realize how important you are to me until you left on such bad terms. I can’t stand the thought of hurting you any further, but I also can’t stand the thought of living without you. I’ve lost enough for a lifetime, and so have you._

__

__

_Allura will always be my first love, but you taught me how to live again, Keith. I think you know that, though._

__

__

_Once again, I’m so sorry. I really never meant to hurt you. It’s no excuse, but I was conflicted and scared by what I felt. Still, I shouldn’t have been so cold. I should’ve never walked away._

__

__

_The image of you crying haunts my nightmares. Please don’t let it be the way I remember your face._

__

__

_I have no right to ask, but please come visit me on Earth. I don’t want to find you, or pressure you, or make you uncomfortable in any way, but I’m begging to see you again. At least so we can talk. So I can look you in the eyes when I tell you how important you are to me._

__

__

_Please respond,  
_Lance__

____

____

_P.S. I think it goes without saying, but I love you. I know that now. I won’t forget it ever again. And I hope you don’t either._

* * *

__

__

Keith places his communicator down, closes his eyes, and _breathes_.


	4. Chapter 4

Unfortunately, Keith is too busy to reply right away — which might actually be a good thing, so he can thoroughly plan what he wants to say before impulsively speaking. 

As much as he wants to immediately accept Lance’s offer to see him, Keith knows it probably isn't the right decision. He’s still unstable, still _hurt_ after everything that had happened. He didn't know if he was ready to forgive Lance, either. Things were complicated for both of them, and Keith wasn't sure how to proceed. 

He was certain, though, that he didn't want to ignore Lance’s letter. 

It had made Keith smile for the first time in a while. It had made him feel light after he'd felt heavy for so long. Lance’s words had been honest and apologetic and genuine and _full of love_ , and Keith could not have been more grateful. 

So instead of seeing Lance or instead of ignoring him, Keith settles somewhat in between: he writes back. 

In a lengthy letter, Keith explains how he'd fallen in love, back when they were fighting a war side by side and Keith needed someone to hold onto. He explains how Lance had been his impulse control, his stability, and why it'd meant so much to him. He explains how distraught he'd been when they returned to Earth, when the two of then talked at the sunset, when Keith’s heart had ached deeply. 

But he also tells Lance about how he wishes solely for their happiness. 

Keith tells Lance that he really _wants_ to see him again, but that he also needs some time to heal. He tells Lance of how badly he was hurt after what they did, about how used he felt, about how his heart had been shattered. 

He tells Lance he loves him, too. And that he has loved him for the better part of his life. 

He finishes it off by promising Lance to see him soon, but requests that they he gets some time to think first. And he sends it off before even reading it so he doesn't overthink it. 

Lance’s response is almost immediate. 

So for a while, they correspond solely through letters. They talk of the past and their feelings and how they intend to get through what’s to come. They talk of their present situations, and they even talk about the possibilities of a future together.

And with each word they share, Keith falls all over again.

* * *

They decide to see each other again. 

They decide on a diner. They decide to sit in a small booth once every two weeks. 

Admittedly, it's awkward the first time. What saves them after that, though, is that they're both so excited to see each other after exchanging the letters. They find comfortable topics to discuss, and soon enough, they're laughing uncontrollably, like they haven't got a care in the world. 

Halfway through the fourth time they've met, Keith realizes he’s become dependent on the sound of Lance's laugh. 

"—And then," Lance sputters through hysterical laughter at the thought, "Pidge's whole mixture blew up in her face! So Hunk banned her from the kitchen!" The story brings tears to both their eyes and they are giggling together so loudly that they're probably drawing attention to themselves. Keith's eyes are pressed closed, so he basks in the sound of Lance's happiness. If he could, he'd save this moment and relive it forever. 

They're briefly interrupted by the arrival of their food. Keith thanks the waitress gratefully while Lance attempts to compose himself. The two share a plate of fries, but sip on their own milkshakes — Keith’s is chocolate and Lance's is strawberry. 

Keith is chewing on a crispy fry when Lance abruptly says his name. 

“What?” 

“Stay here.” 

The plea is firm and decisive, like Lance had been thinking about it forever. Like Lance had be gathering the courage to say it. Like Lance had been willing himself to be honest and vulnerable. 

Keith just blinks up at him dumbly. 

“Well, I mean,” Lance says, and he's definitely about to nervously ramble. “I just thought that maybe you’d want to stay here on Earth with me. For a little while. I mean, for as long as you want? I don't want you to feel pressured, or like things are moving too quickly, but I really want you to stay, I just— I don't want you to go again.”

“So you want me to stay…on Earth...with you?” Keith clarifies, like he can't even believe what he's hearing. The suggestion is so unexpected, so random, so _nice to hear_ that Keith can hardly process it. 

“Yeah. Keith, I want— yes. That's exactly what I want.”

It's what Keith's been dying to hear since, well, he doesn't even know how long. He's wanted to be near Lance for almost as long as they've known each other. Lance's request should make him inexplicably happy, excited, thrilled, and yet—

And yet, he hesitates. 

“Lance, can you honestly tell me that you feel fulfilled on Earth? That you want to _farm?_ For the _rest of your life?_ After having one of the most exhilarating jobs _in the universe?_ And you want to _farm?”_

“What else can I do?” Lance mumbles, looking down at his hands. His shoulders have slumped significantly in his white tank top, Keith notices. He also notices how much more vibrant Lance looks, and despite his despondency, he seems much more alive. Keith thinks — no, _hopes_ — maybe he had something to do with that. 

“Come with me instead,” Keith says immediately, without thinking, because it's the most obvious solution in the world. 

“Yes,” Lance breathes.

* * *

And just like that, things fall into place. 

Of course, it takes effort. They both aren't fully healed yet, but their broken pieces begin to shift back together. 

They both become whole again — on their own and _together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okayyy so this fic was a journey for me! i didnt expect it to be nearly this long, but i really enjoyed working on it! im glad to be done, but im sad its over! its my version of a fix it!
> 
> thank you for everything and to everyone who read/commented it!  
> -lily

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if this is rushed. I kinda wrote it quickly. I hope you enioy it as much as i do!
> 
> If enough people want a follow up, i might write one  
> -lily


End file.
